


Reason d'etre

by fcllencngels



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 1930s, Angst, Explosions, Guns, Japanese Occupation, Japanese Shiro (Voltron), Korean Keith (Voltron), Korean War, M/M, Mentions of Rape, Sheith Big Bang 2017, Time Travel, Violence, hahahahhaha this is so late, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-17 09:08:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12362406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fcllencngels/pseuds/fcllencngels
Summary: After his years of service, Shiro's life should have been simple and peaceful. When he and Matt decided to settle in Massachusetts - mostly to keep an eye on Matt's younger sister, Katie - Shiro had agreed.His life was peaceful, and he had everything he had wanted during the war.But it felt emptyAfter becoming a history professor, Shiro gained the opportunity to go on an extensive trip overseas for his research. He goes alone, expecting his trip to South Korea to be filled with boredom and extensive paperwork.He had never expected to find love.





	1. The Beginning on how I almost died

**Author's Note:**

> uhhhh I was supposed to be done with this over a month ago, but when your internet provider decides that your special case isn't worth fixing for two months, life becomes insanely difficult, especially when all your work is on Google Docs. 
> 
> Since I basically rushed this, it isn't as great as I expected, but hopefully it compensates for my prolonged absence.

Twelve hours.

Shiro leaned back in his chair, sighing as he looked at the clock hanging in his office. He had been a successful soldier, discharged honorably after the accident with his arm. Anyone should have been happy with that, but even more than that, he had found a place back in the US, side by side with his old friend and his little sister. 

But never before had he felt so anxious about a trip. An entire year’s worth of work had ended with this opportunity - a fully funded trip to South Korea to research and improve his employer’s reputation. 

In no way was he leading a dissatisfying life. He lived in a decent house, five minutes away from the building where Matt and Katie lived. As a history professor, especially one at Williams College, he had as much responsibility as he had had in the military, but still, he felt….lacking, as if something was missing from his life. 

Maybe he was just being old. 

A sharp knock sounded, and Shiro looked back at the clock, its slow analog hands telling him that it was already 4:30, far too late for any student to be asking for anything. Eyeing the door suspiciously, Shiro sat back up, clearing his throat. 

“Come in.”

The door swung open, hitting the adjacent wall with a bang, and Shiro smirked. Katie Holt, bringer of vengeance and sarcasm, dumped her backpack on the ground before slamming the door shut. 

Shiro had known Katie for  as long as she had been alive. It hadn’t taken long for the seeds of rebellion to spread, and even at 5’5”, an imp among her fellow sophomores, she was a force to be reckoned with. 

“You locked your lecture hall again. I picked the lock. I think the janitor saw me though.”

She said this matter-of-factly, and Shiro just smiled at her. She was as much of a little sister to him as Matt was a brother, and he could still remember hugging her as she opened her acceptance letter to MIT. Everyone had known of course, seeing that Pidge had hacked into government databases at the ripe old age of 16. 

The decision to ignore that had been unanimous.

“Do you really have to get me into trouble now? You know I’m leaving soon.”

“In twelve hours.”

“Twelve hours.”

In twelve hours, Shiro would be heading out to the Inchon airport, luggage in hand as he began possibly one of the biggest endeavors of his life. For a professor, he was young, only 29, and the thought of spending an entire term doing what he loved most should have excited him. For some reason, he knew that the trip wouldn’t be what he was expecting. 

It wasn’t as if he was unprepared. Months had passed, and the pile of books in his room had only increased as he planned and wrote; stories of the torture and pain of the 1930’s filling his head. 

“Don’t make that face. You look old with that big crease on your forehead.”

“Haha. Very funny. Why’d you stop by today?”

It wasn’t uncommon for Katie to drop by his office, but his suspicions were confirmed as she rummaged through her bag, pulling out a folder before handing it to him. Raising a brow, Shiro took it, placing it on top of the stack of finals he had yet to grade. Knowing Katie, the folder could hold anything, and he wasn’t all too eager to open it. 

“What is it?”

“Dunno.” Pidge feigned with a simple shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t know anything about that kind of stuff. Thought you might find it interesting though. It’s about some kid who’s an urban legend in Korea who apparently during the 1930’s, did some kind of shit that pissed the Japs off. I know that’s what you’re researching so I thought you might want to read it.”

“Did you steal this?” Shiro asked with increasing suspicion. 

“You can’t be hurt by what you don’t know Shiro.”

He rolled his eyes at that, taking the folder and stuffing it into his bag. Katie had unceremoniously draped herself over the only other chair in the room, and he looked at her before glancing at the pile of paperwork besides him. If she was here-

“Don’t give me that look Shirogane. I am not a grade-inputting machine for you.” 

Shiro laughed, grabbing the next pile of papers he had to finish before his flight. She knew him all too well, and as she laboriously reached for the Rubik’s Cube on his desk, he pushed it towards her, wondering why he even allowed her here. 

“I know Katie. I’ll give you a ride tonight so just do whatever it is you do.”

She hummed, satisfied, and Shiro worked, the pen in his hand seemingly absorbed into his prosthetic. It was a nice thing, something experimental he had been offered before his discharge. Not everyone got their arm blown off  _ just right _ , the doctor had said, and the arm reminded him of a 21 st century version of auto mail. 

It did the job, and that was what was most important. 

Turning back to the work in front of him, Shiro scanned over the papers once again, only the slow sounds of Katie fiddling with the puzzle and the slow ticking of the clock filling the room.

Finally slamming the pen down, Shiro submitted the grades, more than happy to be done. The fall term of college was nothing to shrug off, even for the professors, and Shiro absentmindedly grabbed his bag and keys, throwing the pen at Katie’s face. 

“Get up lazy. Let’s go home.”

She responded with a grumble, rubbing her eyes before closing the lid of her laptop. Some time between here and there, she had discarded the puzzle back onto his desk, replacing it instead with her laptop, a sleek grey thing she had built herself. Collecting her bag from where she had dropped it, she stuffed everything away, papers threatening to spill all over Shiro’s pristine floor. 

“Finished all your finals?” 

He turned to lock the door, turning to look at Katie over his shoulder. She nodded, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her hoodie, falling in step besides him as they began the trek to his car. 

“Took the last one today. Nothing too hard. People said a computer science degree is supposed to be hard or something.”

“But you’re a tech genius.”

“Damn straight.”

She grinned, and he smiled back, ruffling her hair. She had cut it short only a year before to prove that she could pass as Matt at work. Shiro had been surprised at how much more mature she had looked once the long strands were no longer framing her face. She had almost seemed like a whole other person. 

The walk to his car was filled with mindless chatter, and Shiro looked over the campus for what felt like the last time.

Pulling out his car keys, his sedan chirped back in response, and he slid into the driver’s seat, making a face at Katie until she buckled her seatbelt. 

“Matt still at work?”

“Yeah. But he texted me and said he’d meet us at your house. He’s bringing takeout.”

“The pinnacle of American civilization. What would we eat if it wasn’t for that blessed Chinese restaurant?”

He started the car, turning out of the lot. After he had been discharged, Matt had decided to work for the Massachusetts Space Grant Consortium, a consortia established under NASA. Unlike Shiro, Matt had followed his dreams through and through, and he never stopped praising the people he had the privilege of working with every single day. 

Plus it kept him close to Katie. After Sam Holt had passed away, Colleen had decided that she would spend the rest of her life travelling around, much to the paranoia of her kids. THe last Shiro had heard, she was in Thailand, having the time of her life. Needless to say, Matt and Katie were not happy. 

Katie plugged her phone into the stereo system, blasting some type of music Shiro was unfamiliar with as they drove in silence. No doubt there were multiple things weighing on their minds, and as Shiro pulled into his driveway, he turned off the engine, promising to make the night count. 

It would be the last one he would spend with his family for a long time. 

As he mindlessly parked his car on the driveway, Shiro slipped out of the car, locking it behind them as they walked towards the front door of his house. 

“If Matt’s bringing the food, you’re doing the dishes, right Katie?”

“Yeah right.”

The pair laughed as Pidge wiggled her key into the doorknob, letting the door swing open as Shiro’s cat blinked at them. Shiro hadn’t put much thinking into naming her, and the American Shorthair looked between the two of them before strolling away. Shiro had gotten her as soon as he had moved into the house, and Black had taken to him immediately, though she sometimes preferred that he leave her in peace.

“She’s just about as social as you.” Katie noted, dropping her backpack on an empty chair as she looked around for the telltale black streak in the shadows.

“What can I say?”

Katie went off, calling after his cat as Shiro closed the door behind them, tossing his things to the side. He still had to pack, although he still had eight hours before his flight. 

Eight hours. 

Katie reappeared, holding a content looking Black in her arms. Perching herself on the couch, she made a face as Black wiggled away, preferring to wrap herself around Shiro’s legs. 

“Showoff.”

Katie glared at him, but based on her expression, he knew she was only teasing. The doorbell rang, causing Black to yowl and run away, but Shiro only sighed as he went to open the door, Matt smirking at him. 

“You have a key. You should use it.”

“Is that what you say to the person carrying dinner?” Matt asked, a smirk on his face as he held up a plastic back, delicious smells wafting from the containers inside. 

“Someone’s got to scold you.”

Matt was only a year younger than him, and even before they had been deployed, they had been best friends. After his parents had passed away, Shiro had essentially been adopted into the Holt’s, much to his grandmother’s nagging. With an impish face and broad glasses perched on his nose, Matthew Holt was the embodiment of boyish trouble. 

“Where’s Katie?”

Katie peeked her head out of the kitchen, waving towards her older brother. Shiro eyed her suspiciously, and she smiled angelically before skipping out of the kitchen and grabbing the bag out of his hands. 

“I’ve been starving. What took you so long?” She asked, already walking towards the table. Shiro and Matt followed, and Matt shrugged, though his frustration was clear. 

“Just some last minute planning. Nothing big, just a pain in the ass.”

Shiro sat down as Pidge pulled the cartons out of the bag, tossing a pair of chopsticks to each member before grabbing one for herself. 

“How many hours till you leave Shiro?” Matt asked, grabbing a container of what looked like some type of chicken. 

Glancing at the clock, it blinked at him threatening: 8:30. 

“Eight more hours. Why, you planning something Matt?”

“After the last time? Never. I’d prefer to not have a futuristic arm wrapped around me again.”

“That was one time.”

“One time too many.”

Katie looked up, a piece of chicken in between her chopsticks. “I think it was funny. Let’s face it. It’s a miracle Matt got through basic training.”

Matt scowled, throwing a fortune cookie at his sister. “I’m a good shot unlike you.”

As the two bickered, Shiro snorted, stealing the container from Katie’s hands, earning him a slap on the face. 

As the table dissolved into a riot of empty threats and teasing hits, Shiro couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. These two were the ones who had supported him through everything: his parents’ deaths, his deployment and return, and even this trip. He wouldn’t trade the world for them. But why did he want more?

After dinner, Matt dragged Katie away, and Shiro stood, Black by his feet as he waved them goodbye. He wouldn’t see them again until June, and even with the advantages the Internet had to offer, he knew that he would still miss them more than anything else. 

“Come on Black.” He murmured. 

Walking to his closet mournfully, Shiro packed away his things. Cursing under his breath, he wondered why he had put off the task until the last moment, running back and forth as he forgot the smallest things. Hours passed, and as the clock struck midnight, Shiro dragged his luggage out, stuffing the two large suitcases into the back of his car. 

He paused for a moment, looked at his house. It was a small thing, easy to pay off with his military pension, and it had quickly become his home. If he listened quietly, he could hear Black mewling inside. Walking back to the door, he opened it, crouching to pet the cat. 

“Katie will come to take care of you. If she forgets, you can scratch her.” Shiro promised. Black mewed in reply, and Shiro picked her up, placing a gentle kiss on her head before placing her down and closing the door. A part of his life was closing, but a new door would open soon enough.

 

* * *

It had taken ridiculously long for Shiro to board his flight, and as he nestled himself comfortably in his window seat, he couldn’t help but feel grateful. Since the institution was covering his expenses, they had obviously arranged for him to take the cheapest flights available. The flight from Massachusetts to Los Angeles hadn’t been that difficult, but the fifteen hour flight awaiting him was ridiculous. He had barely managed to arrive at LA on time, only ten minutes in between his arrival and departure time. Luckily, at four in the morning, traffic in the airport was minimal, and to top it all off, one person in his row of seats hadn’t shown up. 

The elderly gentlemen at the end of the row had dozed off long ago, and Shiro shuffled, pulling the folder Katie had given him out of his carry-on. Opening the folder revealed a crisp report, and Shiro pulled out the paper, surprised that it was only a page long. 

“What the hell Katie?” he muttered to himself. 

Glancing over the text, the story was ridiculously simple. In one of the rural areas lived a story of a Japanese official who had helped the Koreans almost a century ago. The report was relatively brief about the figure, nicknamed Aki or Aka by the people. The report neglected to describe what exactly he had done, but the writer seemed to believe that he had been a valiant part of keeping hope alive in Korean communities.  

“Seems fake.” 

“Lies are truths covered by those who wish to hide them.”

Shiro looked up, the elderly man looking at him with piercing blue eyes. Something about him unsettled Shiro, and he smiled politely, nodding towards him. 

“You are young, but you’ve lived a thousand lifetimes. Be careful of who you find.”

 

* * *

You were six years old the first time you had cross the ocean and the memories of the past filter through your mind as you step off the plane. The sun was setting when he arrived. The words he had heard on the flight had unsettled him more than he had thought, and the entire trip across the ocean, he had sat, wide awake, researching on his computer. 

Depressingly little was written about this urban legend, and Shiro felt personally offended when he found a comment on an article, promoting the imperialist actions of Japan. Even though he himself was Japanese, any human should feel the disgusting nature of the Japanese soldiers as they took Korean women from their families and raped them, turning them into common whores to relieve their own sexual desires and stress. 

He had been 18 when he had decided to start studying the past, but as a soldier, he had barely the time to ponder his curiosities. His days had been spent studying and running, working as hard as he could to pass his classes. 

There wasn't a day, or a time when he realized that he needed to learn more. It was just…a constant realization that as someone with his face and his name, he knew nothing more about being Japanese than the animes he had watched in his childhood. 

It was then that the books had been checked out, and he had spent days glancing over the text, wondering how anyone could do such horrendous things to people. 

But he had been a soldier, and at the same time, he felt an aura of familiarity as he turned each page with his bionic hand. There were some days that he wanted something  _ significant _ to happen, something that would prove that everything he had suffered hadn’t been in vain. 

Maybe history was meant to be repeated.

After he had checked into his hotel room, Shiro had fallen asleep almost instantly, and when he opened his eyes, he stared with distaste at the sunlight streaming through the window. His mouth was stale, and Shiro cursed under his breath as he slowly sat up, hazy eyes glancing over the items discarded carelessly over the hotel room floor. 

No doubt he had thrown things down as he had entered, the trail of clothes and bags leading towards the bed. Groaning, Shiro walked over to his suitcase, unzipping it to pull out a toothbrush. 

“I just had to go to sleep without brushing, after a fifteen hour flight.” He muttered to himself, trudging over to the bathroom. “Good job Shirogane.”

It took little time for Shiro to get ready, and as he peeked out the window, the city was already alive, with people rushing down the sidewalk, in constant motion as they moved from one place to another. 

Grabbing his key card, Shiro walked out of his room, the descent down the elevator surprisingly short as he stood among others cramped in the small space. 

Stepping out onto the street was a whole new experience in itself. The air was brisker, and as people moved effortlessly around him, Shiro almost felt as if he had entered a new world. 

A hundred years ago, he would have been standing on a dirt road with huts surrounding him. But the skyscrapers lining the streets were nothing to laugh at, and Shiro couldn’t help the smile decorating his face as he flagged down a taxi, sliding into the backseat before rattling off his destination. 

It was a small village, a few miles from Seoul, and though he had winced at the price blinking back at him, it had probably been his best option. 

It was an elderly woman that greeted him, and she hurriedly blabbered along as she walked towards the inner part of the community. 

Almost all the research he had done on the plane had been useless, and he had almost given up his efforts of identifying the urban legend before he had found a single name. 

The name had in fact been the name of a smaller town on the edges of Seoul, and after a few questions, he had discovered that barely anyone lived there, creating the perfect time capsule. Somehow, the town had managed to escape the terrors of countless battles and wars, leaving the superstitious citizens to believe that it was guarded by some kind of darkness. 

Shiro couldn’t help but feel a little spooked himself. 

Once he had been left to his own devices, he wandered around, almost hesitant to touch the wooden buildings, let alone enter them. Though they had survived time and weather, the buildings still stood almost shakily, and Shiro wandered down the trail. 

One building stood out from the rest, and Shiro approached it, surprised at how sturdy the structure was. 

Stepping inside, Shiro coughed, the dust in the air almost unbearable as he looked around. It seemed to be some kind of store, and Shiro looked around before discovering a flight of stairs. Walking up them, he opened the first door he discovered, revealing a bedroom. 

“Hm.” Shiro said, almost closing the door behind him before something caught his eye. Nestled among the papers scattered on the desk was something shiny, and Shiro moved the papers away, revealing a dagger. 

“I’ve never seen anything like this.” 

It was then that his phone decided to ring, and as the sound of Indiana Jones filled the air, Shiro dropped the knife and scrambled for his phone. 

Glaring at the caller ID, Shiro swiped his thumb across the screen, taking in a breath before he started. 

“What the  _ fuck _ Matt.”

The slight static over the line didn’t mask Matt’s snickering and Shiro glared angrily at the floor, the dagger happily wedged into the floorboard. 

“How was your flight?”

“You called me to ask about my flight? Matthew Holt, you better be paying the international fees for this call.”

A faint “ _ I told you so” _ made Shiro sigh as he glanced around the room again, shrugging as he bent down to pick up the knife, the symbol on the hilt pulsating slightly. 

“Well sorry I was concerned about my best friend’s well-being. You know as well as I do how bad everything over there is right now. Long as you’re fine. Katie says hi by the way.”

“I figured” Shiro replied, distracted as he gripped the knife, the handle of dagger warm to the touch. “Sorry Matt, but I got to go. I’ll call you back later.” He said, before hanging up the phone and peering at the blade. 

The purple symbol on the dagger flashed suddenly, and Shiro dropped the knife again as a soft purple light suddenly filled the room. Shiro moved to leave the room, but the door handle remained stubbornly locked as the light grew brighter. Covering his eyes, Shiro edged himself to the window, a soft humming filling the air, growing as intense as the light.

Then everything turned silent. 

The air around him felt heavier, and as Shiro opened his eyes again, he found himself standing in the middle of a dusty road, anxiety rushing over him in a wave. A distant noise fired away, and Shiro found himself walking towards it, especially after he realized what it was. 

Gunfire. 

The farther he went down the street, the more Shiro realized how strikingly similar this landscape was to that of the town he had just been walking through, only minutes before. But while those buildings had been old and worn away, these ones were new, filling the air with a nice wooden scent as he ran towards the commotion. 

In hindsight, he supposed it was his fault, but he had sworn that there had been no one there, no one in general, until he slammed into someone. 

The two tumbled to the ground, and suddenly, the air was filled with the sounds of shrieking women and yelling men, and Shiro looked up to see the village come to life. A building on the far end was on fire, the orange flames licking contently at the wooden walls, and a group of well-dressed officials seemed to be running out of the adjacent buildings. 

The  _ someone _ he had crashed into had managed to stand up, and Shiro could barely identify a lean figure, dressed in all black, before a sharp heel moved to crush his chest. 

Shiro quickly rolled away, dust coating his suit as he avoided the man’s attacks while trying to understand what, where he was. 

_ Maybe I’m just dreaming in the hotel. _

The butt of a gun slammed itself into his gut, and Shiro let out a gasp of air in surprise, dropping to his knees. 

Looking up, he saw only the smooth thin walls of a pistol, and purple eyes flashing threateningly.


	2. Life is a lie

In all honesty, he hadn’t been expecting it. 

Almost a decade in the army should have prepared him for the pistol pointed at his face, but for a second, Shiro paused. 

Long pale fingers tightened around the trigger before Shiro moved, the sound of a gunshot echoing through his head. 

And then there was the explosion. 

A pillar of fire erupted from one of the buildings, illuminating the darkness as wooden shrapnel rained down on them, and still, neither of them moved. 

“Aki!”

Two figures emerged, shadowed by the light blooming behind them, similarly disguised to the person aiming the gun at him. Black bandanas hid their faces, while black caps hid away their hair. 

“Got everything?”

“Yeah, but we should leave while we’re ahead.”

The English was muffled, but odd to Shiro’s ears, and he stared at them. Both were lean, though one was considerably shorter than their two companions. The three of them stared back at him, and the darker skinned one let out a laugh. 

“Did we catch a Jap official? What are we gonna do with him?”

No one offered a reply, and slowly, the main figure put lowered his pistol before his eyes flickered to a spot above Shiro’s head. Giving an almost imperceptible nod, he turned around, the other two on his trail. 

“Wait!” Shiro said, still kneeling in the dirt. They paused in their tracks, and Shiro searched for something to ask them. Their names, what they were doing? Where he was?

“Don’t worry, you’re coming with us anyway.” The main figure said, and Shiro was given only a second to understand his words before a shadow loomed over him. 

The next thing he knew, it was dark.

 

* * *

 

 

_ The orange jacket covering his arms was slightly uncomfortable, but instinctively, he knew that he should have been taking it off because it wasn’t a part of his identity anymore. That fact for some reason is hard for him to face as he brushes his fingers down the front of the crisp white material decorating his body.  _

_ The doors slid open and he swerved around, glaring at the figure in the doorway. Keith felt wary, but the body he was in was ecstatic, heart thumping at the sight of him.  _

_ He couldn’t blame them though. The other was tall, with sharply cut hair and the strangest but oddly adorable forelock of white hair.  _

_ “Ready to go cadet?” _

_ He felt himself frown, strolling up to the other. As he came closer, he could see himself reflected in vivid grey eyes. The orange jacket was stranger than he had expected, oddly designed as if it was some type of military outfit, which would explain the question that he had just received.  _

_ His hair was long, curling just slightly underneath his shoulders, and as he inspected himself, he ran a hand through his hair in confusion.  _

_ “I haven’t been a cadet for years Shiro. And you haven’t been my instructor for years either.”  _

_ The other, presumably named Shiro, laughed, leaning down to give him a slight peck to the lips. Warmth rushed through his body, and Keith found himself forcing back a smile.  _

_ “I know, I know. Now you’re not the bratty student breaking my records, and I’m not some stuck up teacher. You’re just my really hot boyfriend and co-pilot.” _

_ Keith punched him in the arm, but he hadn’t been able to contain the laugh that had bubbled in his chest. The whole situation was oddly familiar and intimate, but Keith couldn’t remember a single thing about either of them.  _

_ “What are you doing here anyway?” _

_ “Allura wants us to run some type of drill and I was told to go fetch as Lance put it,” he said, fingers raised in an air quote, “”the fucking mullet” from his room. What are doing in here anyway?” _

_ Keith scowled, stripping off the orange jacket in exchange for a red one, tugging it on as he threw some things onto the bed. It felt surreal, as if his body and mind were being controlled by two different entities.  _

_ Actually, Keith knew they were. He would never wear that jacket.  _

_ “Remind me to kill him later.” _

_ Shiro laughed at that, intertwining his fingers with Keith’s. Keith grumbled slightly as they walked out, sharp fluorescent lights replacing the darkness of the room he had just been standing in.  _

‘Where is this place?’

_ Some helpful part of his subconscious suggested an alien ship, and as he gazed out at the balls of light visible through the transparent windows, he almost wanted to say that he was right.  _

_ An alarm suddenly blared, and the two shot to attention, before a voice crackled above them.  _

_ “Paladins! To your lions! We’ve spotted an incoming Galran fleet!” _

_ Sparing each other a quick glance, Keith found himself running down the hallway in utter confusion. Where was the voice coming from? Was he a paladin? Who were the Galrans?  _

_ Suddenly his confusion caught up with his actions and he stopped in the hallway, Shiro turning to look back at him.  _

_ “Keith?” _

_ “I, what am I doing here?” _

_ “Keith?” _

_ Keith looked outside the window. Was he fighting again? Was it all he would ever be? _

“Keith!”

“What?!”

Keith sat up suddenly, looking around. 

At the door stood Pidge, a tired expression on her face as she sighed at him. 

Looking around, he glanced at his surroundings. No glowing lights, no grey hallways. Just his office with its solid wooden walls, lit up only by the sunlight beaming through the open window. 

Had he been dreaming? 

It had felt so real. 

“-and Lance has not shut up at all about yesterday, and Hunk is being all panicked as usual, and you’re not listening to me again.”

“Have you ever had a dream that felt…real?”

Pidge scoffed, and Keith turned to look at her. Dressed shabbily in some kind of American fashion, a cap on her head, she was easy to mistake as a boy. For some reason, her family had allowed her to visit Korea, and she had stayed, under the pretenses of continuing her education in journalism. 

Though he did have to say, having her around was handy. 

“Like a vision? I know you’re a little gone up in the head Keith, really I wouldn’t expect you not to be, but we can’t have you going mental yet.”

Keith sat, fingers tapping the edge of his head in thought. It had felt so real, and the other person…

“Anyway, Keith. What are you going to do about that guy? You know, the one you made Hunk carry all the way here.”

…had been all too familiar. 

“Where did you say Hunk and Lance were?”

“In your kitchen. Lance is raiding whatever food you have left.”

Keith let out an exasperated sigh before he pushed past Pidge, walking down the hallway to the kitchen, nestled within the corner of his house. 

After moving out of his aunt’s home in the rural area of the country, Keith had purchased a simple two story building, before digging a basement out himself. The main floor housed a printing store, which provided him with a valuable source of income and connections in town. 

The second floor contained his bedroom, an office, a kitchen, and a smaller second room currently occupied by Pidge. Together, the two ran the business, and Pidge never ceased to charm anyone with stories of her life in America, and the glorious experiences she had had during her stay in Korea, of course, all under the glorious Japanese government. 

But the basement was the most important. To the naked eye, there were only printing presses and photography equipment, but it was there where all of Keith conducted his real work, with the help of three of his closest friends. 

Two of which were currently eating all his food again. 

As Lance spotted Keith walking towards them, his face lit up as he walked over, a bowl of rice in his hands. 

“Keith! My buddy, my man. Why the fuck is there no food here?”

“Because it’s not your house.” Keith replied. A quick glance to the side showed Hunk cooking something up, and his stomach silently rebelled against him as he watched him serve out the portions. 

He had met Pidge completely by accident, and after gaining knowledge of her expertise in not only journalism but technology, as well as her distaste for the Japanese regime, she had been easy to win over, and had quickly become one of the closest friends he had ever had. 

Just as Pidge and Keith worked together, Lance and Hunk were partners, owners of some kind of cargo ship that crossed the ocean every few weeks. With the influx of citizens wishing to leave, and the particular nature of Keith’s work, it hadn’t been too difficult to find people who were willing to help him, even at the costs of their futures. 

“So what’s the big plan boss? I’m sure the Japs didn’t like us blowing up one of the brothels last night. Hunk made sure that all the girls got out, and they’re at the other place, but we got to get them out somewhere.”

Keith poured himself a glass of wine, earning a glance of concern from Pidge. As he took a slow sip, he let the drink drip through him. Something stronger would numb the concern that seemed to be ebbing in his mind, but he didn’t have the time or energy to waste with such selfish concerns. 

His job was simple. He worked directly with Japanese officials to write what they wanted him to write. In the process, he had managed to appear amicable enough to a few more loose lipped officers to gain a steady stream of information. 

His goal? To save as many women as he could from the fate that had claimed his mother. 

“Pidge, can you stop by the house and see which girls want to be shipped out and which ones want to stay? But remind them of the dangers of staying.” He said, after a low lull of silence. “After we’ve got all those numbers down, Lance, you go and get the travelling arrangements down. I’ll give you some cash to shop for supplies.”

Lance and Pidge nodded, and Hunk set the finished dishes around the table before looking towards him. 

“And what do you want me to do?”

“Dish up another serving. We’re gonna go figure out who our mystery man is.”

 

* * *

They had decided to confine the stranger in Pidge’s room, mostly because it was impossible to escape. Somehow, the girl had managed to set up alarms on her doors and windows, as well as some kind of strong mesh on the glass to prevent anyone from entering, or exiting, without her help. 

Keith called it a cage. 

It took him a solid five minutes to finally open the door, and any sense of imposition he had to have had faded away by the time the wooden door swung open, revealing an anxious looking, well-dressed man. 

“I think I’ll just take it from here.” Keith said, glancing over his shoulder at Hunk, who raised a brow in suspicion before nodding and leaving a tray on the cluttered desk. Once he had confirmed that the other had wandered down the hallway, he grabbed the desk chair and sat in it, eyeing  _ him.  _

In the heat of the action the day before, he had scarcely noticed the minute details, but up close, he could patiently observe him. The soft grey eyes that seemed to pierce back at him, the scar nestled across the bridge of his nose, and more importantly, the way his arm seemed to have been replaced by some sort of metallic trap that he could imagine Pidge making. 

“Let me take a wild guess. Shiro?”

The other looked visibly shocked and Keith paused to preen in the moment. Of course, that meant that the other Shiro, the one in his dream, had to be the same person, down to the fluffy white forelock and chiseled face. But he could think about those things later. 

“Who are you?” Shiro spluttered, “Where am I?”

Keith took a moment to poke at something new nestled among the heap of metal on Pidge’s desk. Besides the short tussle the day before, he hadn’t felt apprehension towards the other man, which scared him more than it reassured him. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down. 

But at the same time, Keith had never seen anyone like him, even from Pidge’s tales and pictures of American technology, or the Japanese reports he had printed for the officials who had decided to visit his store one too many times. 

Something about him was different. 

“My name’s Kogane Akira, though seeing that too many of my friends aren’t from around here, they’ve dubbed me as Keith.” He replied calmly. “As for your other question, you’re currently in Pidge’s bedroom. I’d advise not to touch anything, because anything in here could be a bomb.”

Shiro looked only slightly concerned at the thought, and Keith took the time to observe him. 

For someone so built, Keith would have expected him to be more aggressive, but something about his presence was calming, and it reminded him a bit too much about happier times. Happier times that were wiped away by the people who had looked just as kind as the man sitting in front of him. 

“The real question is who are you? Were you sent by the Japanese?” Keith asked, fingers tapping in a fluid motion against the desk. 

“The Japanese?” Shiro asked, “I’m…I’m a history professor from Massachusetts. I’m here to work on a project of mine, but I’m not sure how I ended up here.” 

“Massachusetts? As in America?”

Shiro nodded, and Keith’s head only spun with confusion. A mysterious man popped out in the middle of nowhere, during the middle of a mission, and declared himself an American when he was clearly Japanese. 

“What kind of project would an American professor be doing in the middle of a time like this?” Keith asked, “Some type of coalition with the Japanese? Or something worse?”

Shiro looked at him, a blank expression on his face. After realizing that Keith was looking for an answer, he stammered on. 

“I…I came to research what happened in the 1930’s and the specific issue of comfort women in Japanese brothels.”

“It is the 1930’s.” Keith said, leaning forward curiously. “I’ve always known that Americans were peculiar but not idiotic as far as I know.”

The blood drained from Shiro’s face and he looked around, before finally staring out the window, his mouth open in shock. Silence separated the two, and Keith waited for some kind of response, though he doubted he would get one. 

He needed a reason to ask another question. 

As if on cue, Pidge poked her head through the door, her hair windblown and short. 

“Hey Keith. I’ve got everything written out. Where do you want me to put it?”

Shiro’s mouth hung open, and he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of her. Keith felt offended, before he heard a single word escape his lips. 

“Katie?”

Pidge looked at him with an odd fascination before turning back to Keith. 

“I’ll just…leave it on your desk?”

Keith nodded, and Pidge walked away, leaving Shiro in some kind of nervous breakdown. 

“How…why is she here? She’s supposed to be in Massachusetts.” Shiro muttered. “That means that yesterday, she was there too…”

“She’s the best we’ve got.” Keith said. Shiro met his glance, and Keith ignored his expression. “I have no idea who your Katie is, but Pidge is the smartest and fastest I’ve got to help me around here.” 

“What exactly are you doing here?” Shiro asked quietly, his face filled with apprehension. 

Keith finally smiled, standing up and pushing the chair in. 

“We’re the revolution.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	3. Unexpected Relationships

An hour in Pidge’s room proved to be enough time for Keith to gain a wary trust in Shiro, and the two emerged. The rest of the team seemed to be waiting for them, Pidge perched lazily on the counter as Lance and Hunk sat at the kitchen table.  

In a different world, Keith might have asked them about the bitter silence hanging over the room, but as he heard Shiro’s steps follow behind him, he chose instead to ignore it. As they entered the room, the trio looked up, and if Keith hadn’t known that he was part of their team, he would have found their presence together unsettling. 

Keith had barely opened his mouth when Lance looked over in interest, and Keith knew that even if he tried and did his best, it wouldn’t stop Lance from whatever had been brewing in his mind. 

Once upon a time, he would have tried, and once upon a time it would have ended in messy makeout sessions and clothes thrown off too quickly to ponder the consequences. Once upon a time they had clacked teeth and slammed bodies, the stress of the outside world dissipating with every muttered ecstasy and indecent noise. 

Once upon a time, Keith had realized that the dingy cloud of tension and aggression between them was created from immaturity and danger. 

But now, watching Lance’s scowl of frustration turn up in playful curiosity, Keith only sighed, preparing himself for whatever struck Lance in his few moments of inspiration.

“Keith didn’t kill you? You must not be as bad as you looked.” Lance commented, before offering him a seat at the table. An easy pause followed the statement, and Shiro offered a shrug as Lance glanced him over. 

“The name’s Lance. If you ever need some help, I swing both ways.” He added with a smirk. Out of the corner of his eye, Keith noticed Hunk kicking Lance under the table, only a twitch of Lance’s eye revealing that it had even happened. 

Sparing Shiro the need to answer, Keith set down the stack of papers Pidge had given him on the table, smirking knowingly at Lance. 

“Very funny Lance. Did you get everything you needed?” 

“Yup. Don’t worry about it boss. If we’re all set, does that mean we’re all good for tomorrow?” 

“Should be.” Lance said, barely glancing in Keith’s direction.

Hunk looked grimly down at the cup in his hand and Keith let out a soft sigh. Missions were a dangerous thing, and though they all knew that the utmost precautions every time they went out, there was only so much they could do when they were fighting against the Japanese. 

And there was only so much Keith could do to help them out. 

Finally Pidge broke the tension building in the room.  

“Hey. Shiro. What’d you call me back when you were with Keith?” 

Keith watched Shiro study Pidge, and he shrugged, looking at a spot right above her head.  

“You looked like someone I knew. I was just worried that she had gotten herself mixed up in trouble again.” 

Pidge snorted. “You sound like my brother.” 

Shiro only smiled and looked away.  

“Alright, enough with the delays.” Keith said, perching himself against a chair. “Shiro’s going to introduce himself, and we’ll decide where to go from there.”

Shiro glanced around the room once more, and Keith noted the slightly hesitant look he gave his audience before he cleared his throat. 

“My name’s Takashi Shirogane, and I’m a professor from Massachusetts. I- I came to Korea to research about the Japanese invasion.”

Dubious looks greeted him, and Keith could barely hold back a smile before speaking. “And tell them the last part.”

Shiro sighed, and looked away. 

“And apparently I’m from the future.”

Hunk, who had apparently needed a drink, began choking, and Lance thumped him on the back helpfully as Pidge pushed up her glasses and stared at him with fascination. 

“How did you get here? Can everyone there do that? How are you going to get back?” She asked, and Shiro’s face paled. 

“I’m not really sure about the answers to any of those to be honest.” Shiro replied, “I just…kind of got here.”

“What about your arm? Is that a thing from the future? Are you a robot?”

Lance interrupted, throwing a hand at Pidge’s direction to silence her. “Ignore the nerd. If you’re from the future, what happens to us? The revolution? The Japanese?”

Shiro remained silent, fingers drumming against the thick wood of the table, and though Pidge had leaned in, observing Shiro’s metal arm with obvious curiosity, Lance and Hunk watched him, their faces eager. 

“I…I came here based on a story of a group of people. There were no evidence of them and their activities, so I was about to discard the concept whatsoever. I know nothing about your guys’ future.” Shiro finally said, and though he had already expected the answer, it still sank his heart. 

“It doesn’t matter anyway.” Keith said, and as everyone turned to ace him, he’s reminded of the fact that their mission was futile. 

Shiro had already told him. Their futures would, most likely be wiped away most likely by the work they had chosen. 

But Shiro had also told him of tall buildings covered only by the sky, with happy people who frolicked the streets in bliss, a world so terrifyingly different than his own. 

He was hopeful for the future.

 

* * *

The next morning found Keith groggy and annoyed.  

Forcing himself out of bed, he looked around the room, listening quietly.  

The slight creaking from the end of the hallway showed that Pidge was awake, and after a moment’s contemplation, Keith trudged down the hallway before poking his head through the door. Pidge glanced at him for a second before turning back to her work, a thing that Keith only recognized as a detonator after years of work.  

“Is that for today?” 

Pidge put the thing back down, her fingers covered in some kind of slick before looking up at him.  

“No, I just thought, well, you just never know when you need something on hand. Y’know? Anyway, it’s just a small explosive or something. I’m figuring out the details.”  

Keith nodded thoughtfully. Before walking over and sitting on the bed as he watched Pidge tinker away with the limited supplies they had.  

It had been a few years before they had fine-tuned their operation, but as the time had passed, they had all morphed into their smaller roles. Though Keith struggled to provide her with everything she requested, sometimes hejust felt as if he hadn't done enough to help Pidge. If anything, he had dragged her into the pits of hell with his goals.  

"Did you get that letter from your brother yet?" 

Pidge nodded, and Keith watched as she looked frustratingly at the contraption in her hands before tossing it down on the desk in exasperation.  

"My dad's sick. Matt won't say with what – I don't think that they actually know – but I'm just too far away to even help, but I can't leave here, not with everything we've done, and are going to do. But what if he dies? What will I do Keith?" 

"You should go." 

Pidge looked at him sharply, tears barely controlled, with a look of controlled fury on her face. 

"How can I possibly leave, especially when we don't know how today will turn out? And even if I do, who's going to run the store? You don't even do any work in your own store anymore Keith. Leaving here would be throwing away everything that I've done for years." 

"But staying would mean losing your family." 

"You're my family too, you idiot." 

Keith smiled at her as the tears finally slid down her cheeks. Somehow in the midst of her outburst, Pidge had stood up, barely towering over Keith's seated figure. Choking on a sob, she punched Keith, desperation creeping into her voice.  

"What am I supposed to do?" She asked, "Why is the world so fucking tragic everywhere?"  

Keith let her fall into his lap, and he stroked her hair quietly as he felt his shirt absorb the tears.  

"After today, go with Hunk and Lance. We've planned for them to go to California this time, so I'm sure that it won't take you long to get to your parents' house. Stay a bit and come back. I promise that I'll be fine here until the whole team's back. It'll be nice to have a break anyway, don't you think?" 

The words were muffled, but Keith could hear her clearly, as she tightened her grip on him.  

"You promise?" 

"Promise." 

That was how Shiro found them. It was then that Keith realized he had spent more time than planned in Pidge's room, and the fact that the position the two were in was unusual to outsiders.  

"Am I interrupting? I'll just go and-" Shiro stuttered, pointing behind him before walking back out to whatever part of the house Pidge had made him sleep in.  

Keith snorted as Pidge looked over her shoulder at the now vacant doorway.  

"Do you think he's gay?" 

"Pidge Gunderson, in no way do we talk about such illegal matters in this household. We are a law-abiding establishment." 

Their eyes met for only a moment before they fell apart laughing.  

 Pidge managed to recover herself, and she moved to sit beside him on the bed before she perked up suddenly. 

“I’ve been having these dreams.”

“Yeah?” Keith asked, surprised

“You were talking about your visions or whatever, and I realized, I’ve been having weird dreams too. It’s like now. It’s me, and you, and Lance, and Hunk, and we’re all together, and we’re still fighting, but it’s so much better. We don’t hide, people love us, and we’re happy, or at least as happy as you can be given the situation, until something- no someone went missing.”

Keith hummed thoughtfully, and Pidge looked up at him. 

“Remember that time when you said that there’s something missing from our team? What if it’s not something missing, but it’s someone, and it’s  _ him _ .”

“I’d say that sounds like a load of shit.”

Pidge snorted, before pushing him teasingly. “Think about it though. You said you didn’t even see him there, and it was like he appeared out of nowhere, and he himself doesn’t even know why the hell he’s here.”

“People can’t actually time travel Pidge.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know anything about his world. It’s nearly a century from now. We can already fly. Who’s going to stop us from playing God?”

“I have no clue. But what I do know is that I need to go stop the Japs from playing God.” Keith replied, sighing and getting up. “We’ll see if your time traveler is up for today.”

 

* * *

Keith found Shiro sitting at the dining table, head in his hands.

Sympathy set in, and Keith made his presence known, footsteps echoing in the silence of the empty room. Shiro looked up slightly, offering Keith a smile and Keith sat down besides him, letting the silence of the house wrap around them once more.

A glance at the clock told Keith that it was nearly 10 o’clock and finally, he rested his head against his arms, simply observing Shiro. 

“I really don’t know how I ended up here. I didn’t even mean to.” 

Shiro’s voice cut across the sleepy haze that had been threatening to pull Keith down, and Keith sat up, a soft yawn escaping his lips as he turned his head to look at Shiro. 

“I didn’t ask to be here. I was just supposed to look around, take a couple of pictures and leave. I didn’t ask to get  _ time-teleported _ ”

“You sure? You didn’t do something suspicious, piss something off, break something?”

Shiro stared at him silently, and Keith shrugged. 

“I don’t know. I’m just trying to be helpful.”

Shiro sighed, rubbing his eyes with his hands. “All of it is because of that stupid knife I bet. If Matt hadn’t called me, I would have put it back and been on my way happily.”

“What knife?” Keith asked, curiosity growing. “Where was it?”

Shiro looked at him, confused, as he spread his hands a little over what looked like 40 centimeters. “It was about this big, a greyish metal, and had a symbol embedded into the hilt. Why?”

Keith slammed a hand down on the table, a sudden flare of frustration and anger spiking through his veins. “Damn it. Do you have it?”

“No, it teleported me or something. I don’t really know. Why?”

“That’s mine. I sold it to a scumbag Jap because he wouldn’t leave me alone about it. I was planning on stealing it back from him but he hid it somewhere apparently.” Keith muttered angrily. “Stupid long-haired bastard.”

Shiro finally cracked a smile, and a warm feeling invaded Keith’s chest and he looked away, masking away the surprise with annoyance. Shiro’s smile faded away, and the warmness that had filled his chest melted away, replaced with only guilt. 

Keith tapped his fingers against the table in a vain attempt to avoid Shiro’s gaze, and he finally sat up, staring intently at Shiro’s chest in order to avoid meeting his eyes. Sometime during the night, Shiro had changed out of the dress shirt he had appeared in and into a shirt that looked vaguely like one of the giant shirts Lance would wear when he stayed over. 

Where Lance was thin and gangly, making the shirt appear more like a dress, Shiro was built, and Keith only realized that he had been staring at Shiro’s chest and arms far too long to be sane. 

_ Get it together Kogane. _

Clearing his throat, he pointed vaguely towards the street. 

“I need to go over to the market today before we do something and Pidge asked for the house to be empty while she’s experimenting on something. So you’re coming with.” Keith said, sliding his chair back. “You really don’t want to be here when Pidge is messing around.”

As he left the room, Shiro followed almost uncertainly, and Keith walked to his bedroom, grabbing several items before tucking them neatly inside the waistband of his pants. 

“Pidge! We’re leaving!”

“Don’t die!” She called back, and with a grin and a new-found sense of confidence, he motioned for Shiro to go down the stairs first. 

“After you professor.”

 

* * *

The sun was high in the sky by the time they arrived at the market, and as Keith chatted and bartered with the shop owners, Shiro simply watched as the young man navigated his element. 

The night before had been...difficult to say the least and Shiro had spent it tossing and turning on top of the blankets that Pidge had supplied him some time after Lance and Hunk had left. 

He missed his bed. 

But for all the hell he had been through, it hasn't been that bad. Pidge was a rascal, Lance was a charming, if not overly flirtatious lad, and Hunk had easily won over Shiro with small talk and home cooked meals. 

Keith was the mystery. 

Keith with his long black hair and purple eyes that held only the mysteries of his world and the universe behind them. Keith who acted like he had the world to carry but looked only at his friends with the sweetest smiles that Shiro had ever seen. 

And when Keith turned to him, offering him a bag, he simply stared at it, unsure of the other’s intentions. 

“It's clothes. For you. I'm tired of answering about your metal arm.” 

And now, Keith, generous as he offered Shiro a gift with his impeccable English. 

“Thanks.” Shiro replied, opening it to find a dress shirt that looked just big enough to fit him. As Keith turned back to talk to the store owner, a young man who couldn't be much older than Keith, Shiro watched quietly as their heads bowed closer together, whispering before the separated, another bag in Keith’s hand before they embraced quickly. 

Shiro allowed for a comfortable silence to fill the lull between them before he decided to approach the topic. 

“What's in the bag?”

“Clothes.”

Keith’s tone signaled the end of the conversation, and Shiro let the topic rest, choosing instead to observe his surroundings. 

The market was surprisingly full, crammed with small booths with anything Shiro could imagine. Shoes, clothes, food, and even some small restaurants lined the narrow street way, and as people bustled around, a certain homeliness calmed Shiro down, even as Keith navigated the streets with a fierce determination. 

Small talk filled the empty spaces as they walked around, occasionally stopping for Keith to whisper to an unfamiliar face. Shiro couldn’t quite put his finger on the strange feeling that lingered every time Keith pulled him away, but he had discovered that he didn’t quite mind when he found Keith leading him somewhere again. After all, it gave him time to observe him. 

Keith was proving to be a bundle of surprises, and every time Keith muttered something to him, frustrated, Shiro found himself forcing back smiles as the black-haired male handed him more and more things to carry. 

Keith had just handed him another bag, and finally, he turned to Shiro, a contemplative look on his face. The sun was directly overhead, and the pair tood there before Keith shrugged. 

“You hungry?”

Shiro thought about it for a moment before nodding, earning a smile from Keith, a shy, beautiful thing that stopped something inside of Shiro’s heart. 

He refused to be falling for a boy living a hundred years in the past. 

Keith led him to a small booth, and after being pushed by an overly-attached woman to a table, Keith plopped down in the seat across from Shiro. 

“They have good soup here.” Keith offered, pointing at one of the signs hanging on the wall, “but get whatever.” he said before digging through one of the bags they had brought in. 

After the woman returned, chattering away at Keith who only looked more and more annoyed, they ordered their food. The woman left, ruffling Keith’s hair with fondness and Keith looked at him with complete exasperation. 

“That’s my aunt. Don’t ask.” he muttered, running his long fingers through the mess of hair, trying to smooth down the wild locks. 

“She seemed happy that you’re here.” Shiro offered positively, and Keith looked back towards the kitchen. 

“Yeah, I guess.”

They sat in silence until the food arrived, and after several spoonfuls of soup, Keith stared at him, curiosity on his face, and Shiro decided to bite. 

“What?”

“Where’d you learn to fight?”

That earned a snort from Shiro, and Keith waved the question away. 

“Never mind.”

“No, it just surprised me.” Shiro amended. “High school.” he answered, “and the Army.” he added, taking another bite of their late lunch. “You gotta learn how to fight to survive. I just picked it up along the way.”

It was Keith’s turn to snort, and Shiro raised a brow questioningly. 

“So you were a delinquent.” Keith summarized, grinning into his own food. “I should have known.”

“I was not!” Shiro protested. “What kind of delinquent joins the military?”

“A stupid one.” 

“Hey!”

Keith laughed, and Shiro let the issue go.

 

* * *

They wandered like that for a few hours, and as time passed, Shiro found himself becoming more and more comfortable with Keith. Unlike his first impression, Keith wasn’t as stoic as he seemed; instead Keith had smiled too many times for Shiro to believe that he was anything but sweet. 

He found himself simply talking with Keith and as they walked out onto the street, the layout was just as unfamiliar as everywhere else they had gone. 

“Over here.” Keith said, motioning for him to follow him. 

Keith led him to an alley,  before rummaging through the bags they had been carrying around. Choosing one, he handed it to Shiro. 

“Change. We’ve got somewhere to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http://fcllencngels.tumblr.com) | [Twitter](http://twitter.com/fcllencngels)
> 
> *youtuber voice* Click the kudos button and subscribe to [my account](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fcllencngels) for more.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _whispers sadly_ this is where the fic goes to shit because I didn't get to spend enough time on it

As Shiro stripped, slipping on the clothes Keith had tossed at him, he silently muttered to himself, unsure on how exactly he had managed to place himself in the situation. 

The clothes were black, surprisingly form fitting, and comfortable for the most part. As Shiro slipped into the long sleeve shirt, the flexible fabric wrapping around him like a second skin. 

A bandana and pistol were pressed into his hand and Shiro stared at Keith, already masked and unfamiliar. 

“Why do I need these?” He asked warily. The weight of the gun was different, far heavier than the ones he had ever used, but as he wrapped his fingers around it, familiarity reassured him as he stared at Keith. 

“So you don’t die.” Keith said simply, adjusting his bandana so that it almost covered his eyes. 

“But  _ why _ ?” Shiro asked again, trying to catch Keith’s guilty eyes. “What are you doing Keith?”

“What needs to be done.” Keith replied, grabbing his own gun before he walked back out onto the street. 

Cursing, Shiro tied on his own bandana, before following after Keith, pulling on his hat as well to mask the white forelock that had already gathered enough attention. The market streets that had been loud only moments before was almost empty, and as Shiro looked at Keith, the younger male looked almost satisfied, his eyes twinkling as he marched down the street. The few store owners that still stood at their booths turned their heads as they passed, busying themselves with something to do. 

It was like they were invisible. 

“It’s that building. Pidge should be meeting us there.” Keith said softly, and Shiro followed him as they left the marketplace, turning into an alley. The streets were unfamiliar and dusty, and as they passed wooden buildings, Shiro offered nothing as he tried remembering where exactly they were going. 

Keith stopped as they approached another black clothed figure, and without her glasses and loose clothes, Shiro could barely recognize Pidge until those hazel eyes turned to him, staring him down. Somehow in her own disguise she was more imposing than usual, but rather than the outright attitude that reminded him so much of Katie, there was a contained seriousness to her that almost frightened Shiro. 

And the bombs. Those made a statement.

Attached to her waist were two containers that smelled faintly of sulfur and when he raised a brow, Pidge only winked before turning to Keith. The two talked in hushed voices, and Shiro found himself aimlessly looking down at the street. 

“Where’s Lance?” He heard Keith ask, and Pidge pointed to a hooded figure across the street, and Shiro found himself questioning what exactly he was doing. 

“Over there. He’s ready to leave once we go in.”

“And you’re going to do your thing and go with them. Don’t miss your ride.” Keith replied calmly, pulling another gun out of his outfit, and Shiro stared at him.

“What is this Keith? What are you doing?”

“You didn’t tell him?” Pidge asked, turning to Keith, and Shiro watched as Keith looked away from both of their gazes. 

“I was going to….eventually….” Keith said.

“Yeah, after you get him blown up?” Pidge retorted, rolling her eyes. “God, I knew you just wanted to go on a date. Useless.”

The information swirled around Shiro’s head. Grenades, guns, secrecy, their disguises, and Keith’s hesitancy to tell him anything made everything point towards one direction. 

“Are you going to blow this building up?” He asked, and Pidge offered him a cheeky smile. 

“He’s a smart one.” She said to Keith before nodding. “Only a little bit. Enough to keep them distracted while Lance and Hunk do some other mischief nearby. I’m sure less than twenty people will die.”

“Why?” Shiro tried again, and this time, Keith met his gaze. Shiro’s breath faltered for a second as he stared back at Keith, a deadly aura reverberating from him. 

“Because we don’t give a shit about rapists.”

As Pidge rolled her eyes, whispering a quick ‘ _ drama queen’ _ under her breath, she walked over, pulling Shiro’s bandana over his mouth. 

“Just follow Keith and if anyone tries shooting you, shoot them.” Pidge said. “We’ll handle the rest.”

 

* * *

Pidge led the way to the back of the building, finding an almost concealed doorway. As they slipped in, the uncomfortable silence of the alley was replaced by unidentifiable chatter that grew louder the farther they walked down the hall. 

Before they had entered, Keith had shoved...something into his ears, Pidge following suit, and his hearing had been stolen from him, but after glancing at Keith’s face he had decided to stay silent and follow the duo’s lead into only God knew what they were doing. 

Pidge and Keith seemed to be communicating silently, and Shiro simply followed them, the darkness of the hall slowly fading as they walked towards an open doorway. 

Pidge fiddled with one of the bombs, pulling it off of her belt before she looked at Keith. 

In the time it took Shiro to blink, a bang echoed throughout the room. 

Pidge has slammed the door shut, and a few seconds and one silent diabolical laugh later, the sound of a flashbang invaded his ears.

 

* * *

_ What the fuck am I doing here? _

The banging on the door had grown increasingly louder, but Keith and Pidge were just chattering away until another dark figure appeared down the hall 

Glancing up, Keith visibly relaxed, and Shiro watched as the other figure pulled down his face mask, revealing Lance’s dark face. 

“We good Aki?”

Keith nodded and before he could even blink, Pidge had handed Keith her gun and had disappeared with Lance. 

The pair vanished, and Keith looked towards Shiro and winked. 

He had the audacity to  _ wink _ .

“It’s all fun and games from here.” Keith said, checking the pistol nestled easily in his hand. “So don’t look at me like that.”

“You’re crazy. You’re all crazy.” Shiro declared. “I have no idea how any of you are alive.”

“Our recipe for success are equal parts recklessness and brains.”

“ _ Crazy. _ ” Shiro emphasized, and in the moment, he had almost forgotten that they were standing in front of a barricaded door blocking an angry mob of Japanese officials. 

That all changed when the first shot rang out. 

It went clear over both their heads, leaving a perfectly circular hole in the door, but the sound echoed down the hall. Keith snapped to attention, and as the door started to move, he looked at Shiro, looking slightly guilty. 

“ _ Shit _ .”

“Tell me you planned farther than this.” Shiro prayed, and Keith’s eyes only twinkled as he raised his pistol 

“And divulge my secrets? Never.” 

Keith raised his arm, and Shiro watched with slight admiration at his form, tall and regal as he aimed the clunky pistol at the door. 

Then he fired the first few shots. 

“Let’s go.” Keith declared, grabbing Shiro’s arm. The pair ran down the hall and back into the alley, the sounds of their feet against wooden planks replaced by soft dust. It took only a second for Keith to grab everything they had left outside, and by the time they had turned the corner, they could hear the angered shouting of officials behind them. 

Keith navigated the alleyways like he had them all memorized - which after another second of thought he probably did - and Shiro simply followed as the sounds of officials faded away until it completely disappeared. 

They finally stopped at what Shiro could only guess was a half-mile away from the structure, and after years away from anything this physically strenuating, Shiro doubled over next to Keith, who was simply panting, head tipped up as he leaned against the wall. 

“W-” Shiro started before he swallowed the dry lump in his throat. “Was that really necessary?” He asked, looking up at Keith. 

Keith was silent, his eyes closed as his breathing steadied. 

“ _ Keith. _ ”

“Yeah.”

“Did you have to do that? Is that really the best thing you could think of?”

“People run on emotions. No doubt they were discussing the consequences of the brothel’s liberation, and rather than let them continue, we distracted them not only from the topic but from those women’s escape. I would prefer that people wouldn’t have to die, but this is war.”

Shiro watched him silently as Keith pulled his hood back up. Keith couldn’t be more than twenty-one, but the severity from his words aged him. 

Keith wasn’t some foolish boy with a dream. 

He was someone tempered in the fires of life, only to emerge stronger and harder than before. 

“ きんつぎ” Shiro said, and Keith raised a brow. 

“What?”

“きんつぎ.” Shiro repeated. “It’s when you repair broken pottery by filling the cracks with gold. It highlights the fact that the brokenness of the pottery is part of its history, the fact that it had broken but became stronger.”

“And I’m the crazy one?” Keith asked, “What are you even talking about?”

“Nothing.” Shiro said, with a smile. “Are we going now?”

Keith nodded, tossing the bag over his shoulder. “We can’t go back yet but we’ll-”

“We’ll what?” Shiro asked, before he followed Keith’s gaze. 

Directly down their path was a man, dressed sharply in a Japanese uniform. His hair was neatly bound in a bun, and unlike the rest of the soldiers Shiro had seen, this one was different, from head to toe. He was regal, hands concealed behind his back, and the buttons on his shirt even reflected light in the dark alley. 

He was majestic.

He seemed terrible. 

“The Japanese Army is remarkably well trained, but even then they were incapable of finding you two. I decided it was time to take things into my own hands.” he called, and with every step he took towards them, Keith took a slow step back. 

“But I find you here, hiding between buildings like a pair of lost street rats. I can’t express how disappointed I am.”

Keith offered no reply, his fingers wrapping around the pistol at his side, and the other only smiled. 

“Shame I find you like this. You could have been an incredible asset.”

Keith drew his weapon, but Shiro knew instinctively that he would be too slow, even with his incredible speed. 

So he did the first thing that came to mind. 

By the time the other had fired his own weapon, hidden behind his back, Shiro had stepped in front of Keith, greeted by a single bullet to his arm. 

Keith fired back, and the figure fell to the ground, crimson bleeding through his crisp pants. 

“You idiot.” Keith hissed, and even though he knows that he’s probably numb through shock, Shiro glances at his arm and shrugs. 

“Let’s go before someone else comes.” Shiro suggests, and Keith’s eyes flash angrily at him before he glances back. 

“Fucking Lotor.” he mutters. Grabbing Shiro’s uninjured arm, he dragged him back down the way they had came, leaving only blood and a damaged prince as evidence that they had even been there. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http://fcllencngels.tumblr.com) | [Twitter](http://twitter.com/fcllencngels)
> 
> *youtuber voice* Click the kudos button and subscribe to [my account](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fcllencngels) for more.


	5. Chapter 5

The door was slammed shut with a bang that shook the walls of the building, and as Keith pressed his hand against the door, Shiro stood frozen, waiting.  

It felt like an eternity before Keith turned around, blazing fury in his eyes.  

"What were you thinking?" Keith asked, his voice deadly calm, and even the weeping wound on his arm felt better than the controlled anger Keith was showing him. It wasn't the first time he was getting shot, but it was the first time that he had ever fought like that. There was a wild, untamed technique to the rebels' fighting, something that Shiro couldn't even begin to comprehend the depths of. But with that inexperience came power, and that power had built a force confident enough to bring down the evils in their lives. 

And he might have just risked it all.  

Old habits forced him into a stiff position, but unlike his previous commanding officers, Keith was different.  

Keith had also not told him anything that he had planned.

“I was protecting  _ you _ . What would have happened if you had gotten shot Keith? What would have happened to everything you had worked for?” Shiro asked, forcing himself to stay calm. The blood drying against his skin was distracting, a slight breeze brushing over it, soothing the painful wound. 

Keith paced erratically, and Shiro’s eyes grew tired as he watched him go back and forth, back and forth. He was biting his lip, and Shiro finally sighed and reached out to touch his shoulder gently. 

Keith paused for a second, the tension seeping out of his shoulders before he flinched away, and Shiro allowed himself the acknowledgement that Keith was going to be okay. 

“I did it to protect you Keith.” He repeated, voice softer as he stared at Keith’s back, at the long, dark curls that were begging for his fingers. “I didn’t want you getting hurt. You’re so much more important here.”

“Who’s going to protect you Shiro? If I’m protecting them, and you’re protecting me,  _ who’s protecting you? _ ” 

Shiro could feel the hurt behind his words, and even with the pain shooting down his arm to the tips of his fingers, he walked over, letting his hand rest against Keith’s shoulders, his fingers threading through wisps of hair as Keith held back waves of anger and sadness. 

Once the waves of emotion subsided, Shiro watched as Keith turned to face him, grim realization hitting him as he looked at Shiro’s arm. 

“You idiot.” He said, his voice considerably softer. “You shouldn’t have done it. You don’t even know me that well.”

“It feels like I’ve known you for lifetimes Keith. I would do anything to make sure you’re okay.”

Keith sucked in a sharp breath before he stomped down the hallway, his unvoiced command clear. 

_ Just follow. _

The hallway ended abruptly, with a small bathroom at the end, and Shiro only laughed as Keith moved around the tiled space before pointing at a stool for Shiro to sit on. Just like everything else in the house, it was small and worn down, but Shiro sat on it, simply watching as Keith busied himself around the small room.

“Take off your shirt. It’s probably ruined anyway with all that blood on it.”

Shiro pulled off the tight black shirt, letting out a sharp sigh of pain as the cloth dragged over the wound. Letting it drop to the ground, he looked at it mournfully as Keith walked over, medical supplies in hand. 

Keith was gorgeous, a sharp jawline, crisp cheekbones, and a stare that made Shiro shiver as he stood over him, cloth and alcohol in hand. Keith met his eye, and Shiro only smiled as his cheeks flushed pink, adding a softness to him that Shiro doubted few would ever see. 

“This’ll hurt.” Keith said, and with a glint of playful revenge, he poured what looked like iodine onto Shiro’s open wound. 

The pain came almost too quickly for Shiro to realize, and he slammed his mouth shut as his arm screamed in protest. Vaguely, he could feel Keith treating the wound, but his head swam in a river of pain. He had expected the nerves in his upper arm to be numbed after his prosthetic has been attached, but it hurt more than he had remembered.

“You idiot.” he heard Keith mumble, and somehow the words cut through the fog in his mind, and he half-heartedly muttered a response.

The hands on his arm stilled and Shiro turned his head to glance at Keith, who stood still, his eyes trained on Shiro. 

“Keith? You okay?”

“You can’t” Keith said firmly. 

“Can’t what?” 

“You can’t love me.”

“Keith what are you-” Shiro started before realization dawned on him. 

> _ “You idiot.” _
> 
> _ “I did it because I think I love you.” _

“You can’t love me. You just can’t. Don’t.” Keith blabbered, a tremor running through him. 

Shiro swallowed the ball of guilt rising in his throat as he reached up, his hand resting on Keith’s shoulder before sliding up to wipe away the tear trailing down Keith’s cheek. 

“I love you.” Shiro whispered, ignoring the throbbing sensation running through his arm. “I love you, and I don’t know why, but I do, and won’t stop. It’s like there’s this string connecting me and you and if it breaks, I feel like I’d just die.”

Keith’s body was shaking with held back sobs, and Shiro smiled at him, the boy with galaxies hidden in his eyes, the boy with the universe in his hands, the boy with the soul as bright as any star. 

He loved him. 

He supposed it was ridiculous to believe in something as cliche as love at first sight, but from the very bottom of his heart, he knew that it hadn’t been the first time he had seen Keith. A few days wouldn’t cause this deep longing, the familiar emotions, and the easiness that overcame him whenever Keith looked at him. 

“Shit, I love you Keith.” he murmured. 

Keith’s eyes were closed, and Shiro let his thumb trace the lines of Keith’s face, reveling in the moment. 

“I’m going to hurt you.” Keith whispered. “Everyone I love gets hurt.”

Shiro only smiled. “I love you too.

 

* * *

“Have you ever been to America?”

Keith examined his fingernails, and Shiro could see him mulling the question over. 

“I have, but barely.”

Shiro paused, wondering whether to press the issue or not. Keith’s face was like stone, with his lips pressed into a thin line. Letting out a breath, Shiro leaned back, ignoring the pain throbbing in his shoulder. 

“I grew up in Arizona.” Shiro started. 

Keith raised a brow, and Shiro smiled, knowing he had gained his attention. 

“Most of the people there were decent, even if the heat made everyone frustrated and cranky. After all, it was hot enough to melt tires onto the street in the summers. 

But it was beautiful there. You could get desensitized to the beauty, but one morning, I just…noticed it again. My parents were driving past one of those huge farms on the highway, and the sun was just peeking over the mountains. I hadn’t been paying a wink of attention until I noticed it. It turned the sky this beautiful shade of pink, and the sunlight was just bouncing off the clouds. 

That was the image I kept with me every morning of my deployment. I was protecting that beauty.”

Keith had remained quiet, but the spark in his eye excited Shiro. Sighing, the other laid on the floor and closed his eyes. 

“Tell me more.”

The hours just passed by as Shiro told him, told him about his childhood and the happiness that had filled it until the fatal crash that had killed both of his parents. 

He told him about Matt and Katie, the strength behind Matt’s selflessness, and the potential behind Katie’s mischievousness. 

He told him about the deployment, the way war and survival had become part of his being, but the way that he was still proud, proud of everything he had done, and the reasons he had done it. 

He told him about the peace after the war, and the struggles of regaining his arm, the struggles of being an experiment. 

He told him of everything that had made him who he had become, from the dirty and bloody to the uneasy silences in between. 

And after he had silenced and it felt like there was no longer any breath in his lungs did he realize the possibility that Keith could very much be asleep. The tension that had lined his face had been erased, and Shiro fought the urge to reach over and brush back the long dark bangs hanging in front of Keith’s eyes. But Keith let out a soft breath, and Shiro watched him, enraptured by this boy who had managed to fill up every part of him that had felt empty.

“It sounds so nice.”

Keith’s voice was soft and Shiro hummed in agreement.

“Living like that is a luxury I can’t afford.”

His eyes were closed, but Shiro didn’t need to see them to feel the pain behind his words. 

Shiro reached over, his fingers twisting with Keith’s. Keith’s eyes flew open, and Shiro froze, those purple irises working magic on him like nothing else. 

“I can’t be selfish.” Keith said, his voice wavering. 

“I know.”

“It’s so hard.”

“I know.”

“All the time, they’re expecting me to know what to do, and I know that if it’s not me, there’ll be no one. No one will fight.” 

“But like this, you’ll break.”

Keith’s voice was quiet as he answered. 

“I know.”

 

* * *

They had laid together then, in quiet comfort. Outside it was dark, and even the fire that had been crackling happily only a few minutes before had faded away, leaving behind only rocks, throbbing with inner fire. 

“I’ve lived here my whole life.”

Shiro opened his eyes at the sound of Keith’s voice. 

“I was born just before the Japs came over, and my parents were happy. My dad was a Jap, but my mom wasn’t, and so when my dad died, we became a normal Korean family. I never got to know my dad, but since he’s the reason I’m still alive, I suppose I should thank him.” Keith sighed. “I’m lucky to look enough like a Jap to survive.”

“But when they all came over, I was barely over 10 years old. My mom was one of the first ones to be taken. I was a child at the time, but even I knew the dangers I would face if I crossed the man that took her. I mean, she was beautiful.”

Shiro swallowed, a bitter taste in his mouth. It was almost like he knew what Keith would say next. 

“I couldn’t, didn’t do anything when they raped her.” 

“When she killed herself, my aunt and uncle took me. My aunt was from my father’s side of the family, so the rest of my childhood was relatively uneventful. As long as I looked Japanese enough, no one gave me a second glance.”

A bridge of silence settled, and Shiro wanted to lean over and hold him as Keith took in a sharp breath. 

“Someone once asked me what my purpose was.” Keith said. “And it took me a long time to figure it out because I was just so angry all the time, and I didn’t- I just didn’t know.”

Rolling over, Keith turned to look at him, and Shiro could barely contain himself as he looked at Keith’s pained face. The person laying in front of him was not the fearsome rebel leader he had first met, or the softer man he had come to know. The Keith in front of him was raw and broken, a boy that had grown up too fast. 

“I didn’t ask to be this, this person, but someone had to be, and I knew that I had to. But it’s not my purpose. 

I want to rain fire and brimstone down on the people that broke my mother to pieces, but I want to travel the world and follow the stars. My purpose is to be with my family, to be with the people who make me whole. And this entire life, I’ve been broken because I thought there was no possible way that I could ever be whole, not with who I am, and how I’ve chosen to be. I’ve never felt whole. At least, not until I met you.”

Shiro felt his heart drop and he swallowed the lump in his throat as Keith redirected his gaze to somewhere around Shiro’s chest. 

“I know that in this lifetime, I won’t be anything to you, but I want to believe that I will find you again Takashi, and maybe in that lifetime, I can be selfish.”

Keith slowly inched his way over, curling up against Shiro, and as Shiro wrapped an arm around Keith, he could feel him tense for a moment before melding against him. 

“Do you think I deserve to be happy?” Keith whispered, and Shiro breathed in the smell of Keith, gunpowder and smoke mixed with sunlight and soap, and he wondered what type of world would break someone as beautiful as this. 

“You deserve so much more than you got Keith.” He replied, and Keith’s grip on Shiro’s shirt tightened as they fell asleep, the stars blinking above them and guarding them for just one night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http://fcllencngels.tumblr.com) | [Twitter](http://twitter.com/fcllencngels)
> 
> *youtuber voice* Click the kudos button and subscribe to [my account](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fcllencngels) for more.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please send me prompts on tumblr i'm dying in college applications and I need to write something

There was a time, Keith supposed, where man had only ever been happy. He had wondered how it was even possible, to feel an emotion that couldn't possibly exist.  

There had been a time when he had given up on love, for only fictional characters once upon a time could live happily ever after with someone that truly, deeply cared about them.  

There had been a time when he had woken up every morning, cold and alone.  

And for the first time in his life, Keith was thankful for the Japanese.  

It should have been impossible. For years, for centuries, Japan had been that terrifying force only a breath away, and reminded him of a time he wanted only to forget. For the entirety of his life, the Japanese had been a faceless giant that had only took, terrorized, and tortured him and those in his life.  

And those wounds would never heal.  

But for the entirety of his life, Keith had chosen, time and time again to act, to take back what had been coldly stolen from him to the best of his ability. He fought for his mother's death, he fought for his lost childhood, he had fought for the countless friends that had had their names, their lives, and their joy stolen from them to profit entertain their captors.  

And during those 22 cold years, he had forgotten what warmth life could offer.  

Waking up in Shiro's arms had reminded him. 

It was then that Keith realized that the erratic emotion throbbing in his chest was happiness, and rather than let the waves of anxiety rushing over him win, he let out a soft sigh and pressed his face to Shiro's chest.  

It was warm, and Keith had never been happier.  

Love was something bitter that had been taken from him, but it had come back in the form of soft grey eyes and a gentle smile that left Keith wondering how he had gone through life without it.  

A grunt startled him from his reverie, and Keith looked up to watch Shiro glance at their surroundings. There was something lithe about his movements, and when his eyes finally settled on Keith, he smiled. 

Keith had never believed in love at first sight, but the universe was making him question his beliefs, because that single look was making him want to combust into something small and very insignificant so that the overwhelming nature of just  _ Shiro _ couldn’t have this effect on him. 

“We slept outside?”

Keith hummed in acknowledgement, and Shiro only let out a groan, glancing once again at the sun that had graced their presence with its light. 

It was going to be humid- just something Keith could surmise from the air, and he forced himself to sit up, shooting Shiro a look at what seemed to be a grin at what Keith could only guess as his bedhead. 

“How’s your arm?” Keith asked, glancing towards the white bandage barely peeking out of the sleeve of Shiro’s shirt. The other only shrugged, moving his arm slowly to gauge it’s maneuverability. 

“Honestly? It hurts. But it’s fine. It’s a nice reminder that I’m just flesh and bone.” Shiro replied easily, and Keith only let out a concerned sound before motioning for Shiro to slip his shirt off. With only a suggestive eyebrow wiggle, Shiro’s shirt was abandoned, and Keith focused his attention toward changing the bandages. 

Mostly. 

It should have been illegal, the way the sunlight softened the lines of Shiro’s chest, and Keith wanted nothing more than to let his fingers run along the divots of muscles and skin. 

If there was a God, they could give themselves a pat on the back for this masterpiece. 

“It should be fine.” Shiro commented, and Keith ripped his eyes away from Shiro’s chest, working instead to unwind the thin white strips from Shiro’s arm, the same arm that had been draped over him only a moment before. 

Keith decided that he hated love. 

“Yeah, but you did travel 80 years into the past. Who knows what could happen to you?” Keith replied, getting up and rummaging inside for the supplies he had thrown inside yesterday. 

“Shouldn’t that mean I’m more resistant to disease?”

“I don’t know Professor. I print paper for a living.”

Somehow, Shiro had gotten up without Keith noticing, and Keith let out an involuntary sigh of happiness as he felt those familiar arms wrap around him. 

“You’re so much smarter than that Keith. You’re too smart and too dedicated to let yourself down with things like that.” 

Keith took his time replying, savoring the feeling of being wanted.

 

* * *

The morning was quiet and peaceful, and after Keith had made breakfast, Shiro had asked to see around the small bundle of buildings. 

Keith had almost protested, finding something about revealing his childhood home embarrassing. 

Shiro had won. 

The crossed the small center pavilion, Keith’s fingers lovingly laced with Shiro’s as he pointed out the last building, a cozy looking house raised only a few feet off the ground. 

“And that’s where my mom and I lived.” He said. 

Something about the building seemed to be drawing Shiro, and Keith followed somewhat reluctantly as Shiro took his time scanning the structure, before proceeding up the steps. 

“It’s so small.”

Keith shrugged, sliding the door open. “It was just me and my mom. It’s not like we needed much room.”

The inside was just as small as the outside, and Keith and Shiro walked into the small room, a pile of blankets folded and resting in the corner. With both of their bodies in the room, it seemed smaller than Keith had remembered, but even with every piece of evidence of his past wiped away, it still reminded Keith of happier times. 

“I told you that there’s nothing here. Let’s go.” Keith said, trying to pull Shiro out of the room, but the other was fixated on some part of the wall, and as Keith directed his own attention there, he noticed a small slit cut out. 

“Is that supposed to be like that?” Shiro asked, and Keith shook his head, letting go of Shiro’s hand to drop to the floor and slide his arm into the slit. 

His hand barely fit, but after fumbling around for a moment, his fingers grazed against a piece of paper. Latching onto it, he dragged it out, coughing as a small bloom of dust emerged with it. 

It was a picture, old and grainy, but Keith’s fingers traced over the faces lovingly. They were smiling, the three of them, and when Shiro peered over his shoulder to look at the picture, he held it defensively, as if Shiro would steal the last bit of his innocence. 

“You were a cute baby.”

“How’d you know it was me?” Keith asked curiously, turning to look at Shiro’s face, too close for Keith to do anything about the thumping in his chest. 

“You still look like you’re going to punch someone.”

Keith laughed.

 

* * *

The days flowed together, and Keith had never spent so many lazy afternoons with someone like Shiro. 

They wandered around the small village, stopping by the market every few days to get enough food to huddle down in their little house for another day. 

Keith almost forgot about the occupation, about the mission, about the negativity that had controlled his life for so long. 

Everything was so light, especially when he fell asleep in Shiro’s arms. 

It was another bright morning, and Keith was absentmindedly sitting on the porch of the house they had claimed, cutting up some apples he had picked from a tree. Shiro laid behind him, lazily tracing circles on Keith’s back, and the domesticity had done wonders for Keith. 

Shiro had fondly kissed him on the cheek, telling him he was going soft. 

Keith had never been more thankful for the fact that they were alone, two males sleeping together, living together, would not have gone well with anyone. 

But it made him happy. 

Popping an apple slice into his mouth, he turned and fed Shiro a slice, smiling as he chewed on it thoughtfully. 

“Do you think those three are okay?” 

“Pidge, Lance, and  Hunk?” Keith asked, receiving a nod from Shiro. “They’ll be fine. I told them to stay for a bit longer though. Pidge’s dad was sick, so she wanted to visit him, and Lance and Hunk deserved to see their families too.”

“You are soft.”

“Shut up.” Keith said, and he smiled as Shiro pulled him down, kissing the top of his head. “I just thought that even if I had someone, I’d want to see them too.”

 

* * *

He woke up one morning, warm and happy. Sometime between here and there, he had become used to the feeling, the feeling of Shiro’s arms around him, blankets tangled around their ankles, with the soft sunlight drifting through the closed doors.

As he fell back asleep, he decided he would do anything to protect that moment.

 

* * *

It was another bright morning when Keith woke up, leaving Shiro in bed. Stepping outside carefully, he slipped outside, a slight breeze bringing in the scent of fall, the crispness of the wind, the sound of crunching leaves just beyond the gate, and the sound of running footsteps. 

The last item drew his attention, and squinting, the figure of a man was just clear enough to identify the fact that he was coming towards the small structure. 

Fuck.

 

* * *

Shiro woke up to an empty bundle of blankets, and the sounds of hushed whispers. Sitting up, he slid out of their makeshift bed, walking over to the door and sliding it open to reveal Keith, frustration lining his face, and someone else Shiro vaguely remembered from the market so long ago. 

At Shiro’s sudden appearance, Keith had jumped, but seeing Shiro, he held out his hand, Shiro taking it naturally as the other man looked at their bound hands before raising a brow at Keith. Shiro smiled as Keith ignored the look, turning his attention towards the gate. 

“So they didn’t find anything then?” Keith asked, and the man nodded. 

“Why are you here then?”

“They’re frustrated Aki. They know. They’re onto you.” The man said, 

“They have no evidence.”

“They’re going to get it.”

“How?” Keith asked, and his grip on Shiro’s fingers tightened, and Shiro rubbed the back of his palm reassuringly. 

“They found out that Pidge is gone, and that you haven’t been to the store. So they’re going to raid it.”

“When.”

“Today.”

A stream of curses streamed from Keith’s mouth, and he ran back into the room. The other figure stood up, slipping on his hat and walking away, and Shiro watched the two separate figures, unsure of what to do. 

“SHIRO.”

That answered his question. 

Shiro slipped back into the room, which had become a dump. Keith’s hair was untidy, locks flying every which way, but he had changed into something more casual than his pajamas. 

He looked like the world was ending. 

“Take this. I need to keep it safe.” He said, thrusting a photograph in his direction, and Shiro took it gingerly, Keith’s baby face staring back at him seriously. 

“I need to go to the store, and I need to burn it down or something. I’ll figure it out on the way. I’ll be back.” Keith said, already at the door. 

“You’re going to go alone?” Shiro asked, a feeling of dread creeping into his gut. “This is my fault anyway, I’ll go with you and help.”

“You can’t. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“That’s why I’m going.” Shiro replied, already changing. “I’m not letting you go alone.”

 

* * *

Shiro had never run faster in his life, but even he couldn’t catch up to Keith’s speed. By the time he arrived back at the print shop, Keith was already upstairs, piles of paper in his hand as he stacked them on the table. 

Running over, he slammed a box of matches into Shiro’s hand, and after a directed look at the pot sitting on the counter, he went back down the hallway leading to his and Pidge’s rooms. 

It didn’t take a genius to understand Keith’s silent request, and Shiro grabbed the pot, most likely something Hunk would use to cook, and shoved a handful of paper into it before lighting a match. 

“He’s going to burn this place down like this.” Shiro muttered to himself, but even he could feel the impending doom weighing upon them. The sound of slamming drawers and clattering objects barely cut through the tension hanging in the air. 

They could not afford to be caught. 

After dropping another stack of papers into the already burning pot, Shiro wondered silently if the wooden table would catch fire at the rate he was burning the documents. A few quick glances showed sloppily drawn maps, tables full of people’s names, and recipes. So many years of plans and dedication was being burned away in an instant. 

Keith finally emerged, his hair wet and plastered against his forehead, something small and machine like in his hand. Shiro vaguely remembered it on Pidge’s desk, and as he dropped the last stack of papers into the dying fire, he grew uneasy as Keith just stared at him. 

“Keith? What’s that?”

Keith’s fingers only tightened around the device, and after dumping the pot into the sink and praying that something wouldn’t catch fire, Shiro moved to Keith’s side, grabbing his hand and rubbing his thumb across the backside of Keith’s hand, trying to reassure him as Keith leaned onto him. 

They stood like that, the faint smell of smoke filling the air until the sound of a sharp knock filled the air. 

“Open the door!”

Panic filled Keith’s eyes, but he held onto Shiro more tightly and Shiro murmured sweet nothings into the soft down of his hair as the knocking grew more persistent. 

“Do you trust me Shiro?”

“Always.”

Keith’s lips crashed against his then, and Shiro was almost taken aback before he realized that n

nothing else could ever compare to the feeling of Keith’s lips against his. 

Maybe it was the smoke in the air, or maybe it was the adrenaline, but every broken crack running through Shiro’s mind and body was fused shut as Keith’s love, a blazing fire, ran through his veins. 

This was what he had been missing. This is what he needed. 

Shiro could have lived in that moment forever, the taste of cinnamon on his lips as Keith kissed him with a passion that Shiro could never replicate, but the sound of shattering glass filled his ears, and Keith pulled away, his eyes full of tears. 

“I need you Shiro. I need you so much.” Keith rasped, and Shiro felt frozen as he watched tears trail down Keith’s cheeks. “But there’s so many more people who need you.”

Shiro swallowed the growing sense of unease building in his throat. “Keith, whatever-“

“Shiro, we promised we’d protect each other.”

“Keith, if you’re going to do anything stupid, I swear-“

“Shiro, I have to.”

The finality behind Keith’s words hit him like a rock, and Shiro shook his head, refusing to believe his ears. 

“Keith, we can go now, we can escape.”

“There’s so many secrets here Shiro. So many things here that I promised to take with me to the grave. It’s the life I chose, and I knew the stakes. But you said so yourself. You never chose this life.” Keith whispered, and the fervent yelling downstairs only prompted the idea that their time together was limited. 

“Keith, don’t. I choose you. I choose you Keith Kogane. I don’t need anything else”

Keith’s smile was sad as he offered Shiro one last kiss, slow and sweet, reminding Shiro of the soft melodies that would play at the end of a musical, a melody that signaled the end.

“There’s a staircase under Pidge’s desk. It’ll take you out back, and you’ll know what to do from there. Go back Shiro. Go back and tell them what we did here. Don’t let them forget who I am again.” Keith begged, and as footsteps ascended up the stairway, Keith shoved him down the hallway before pushing him into Pidge’s room. 

The momentary show of strength shocked him, and before Shiro could realize what had happened, a soft click locked him in. 

Shiro slammed his hand against the door, anxiety rippling through his veins as he did his best to open the door. But he should have known better, and the mechanisms keeping the door shut were too complex for him. 

“Keith. Keith you can’t do this alone.”

“I promise I’ll see you again Shiro. Just go down and wait for me. I’ll be behind you.”

Keith’s voice was muffled by the door, but a sigh of relief escaped Shiro’s lips as he pressed his forehead against the wooden door. 

“I love you Shiro. Now go.”

He barely had time to reply before a thud sounded. Pushing Pidge’s desk out of the way, Shiro moved quickly, pulling up a floorboard to reveal a handle. 

“Pidge, you’re a genius.” He murmured quietly, lifting the handle to show only a dark staircase. 

He only glanced over his shoulder once before he descended, the trapdoor closing itself once again to shroud himself in darkness.

 

* * *

He stayed by the door until the familiar thump reassured him that Shiro had left, and that Shiro would be safe. 

Shiro would be safe. 

He could remember the aching feeling of other times when the uncertainty of Shiro’s well being had torn holes in his heart so large that his friends had worried for his health. 

At least in this universe, Shiro would be safe. 

Composing himself, Keith walked down the hallway, only to be met by Japanese soldiers, their guns pointed straight at him. 

“Good morning gentlemen. For what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked, letting an easy smile decorate his lips as his eyes flickered among them. If it was only them, then he was sure that he would be fine. He had seen worse. 

It was then that the sound of footsteps rung through the air again, and a line of soldiers filtered into his kitchen, their weapons pointed at him. It was the last person, their slow and easy steps up the stairs that reminded him of who he had been fighting the whole time. 

“Commander Lotor. How are you? I trust your father is doing well?”

“My father’s health is none of your business Kogane. We’re here on official business.”

Keith only smiled, before pointing at the mob of soldiers. “You’re not saying that all this is for me, are you Commander?”

“We are more than aware of what you’re capable of Kogane. We know that you’ve been heading the rebel cause, and we know that you were the ones who caused the commotion the other day. It’s only a matter of time until your friends are caught too.”

Keith flashed a cheeky grin, which was met only by a scowl. “Then, Commander, I feel as if you’re overestimating the power of a simple shop owner. What could I possibly do in a shop like this?”

As if eager to prove him wrong, a soldier lifted the pot lying haphazardly in the sink before letting out a yelp as the metal burned his fingers. Ashes spilled onto the floor and after a few seconds of contemplation, Lotor turned back towards him. 

“Care to explain that?”

“I’ve got a friend who’s terrible at cooking. Absolutely horrid. I made him leave to get me food only a little before your arrival.” 

“I doubt that anyone could burn anything to that extent Kogane.”

Keith only shrugged, and as Lotor took slow precise steps toward him, his fingers tightened around the only hope he had left. 

“Where are they? Where did you put everything?” Lotor hissed, and as Keith’s smile never faltered as he felt the cool barrel of a gun against his chin. 

Maybe it was regret running through his veins in place of adrenaline, the guilt of his past, and the sadness that overwhelmed him when he thought of  _ them _ . 

His three friends, travelling to safety, no doubt reassured that he would be fine. They would come back to a place that had no more meaning, no more purpose. 

His mind wandered to thoughts of Shiro, and it was then that the lump in his throat became unbearable. 

‘ _ I’m trusting you Pidge.’  _ He thought as he flipped the switch on the device. 

It was a blessing to see Lotor’s smug face fall as he held up the device. 

“Go to hell.”

The world fell apart in an explosion of fire and screams, and Keith’s world fell to a close. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http://fcllencngels.tumblr.com) | [Twitter](http://twitter.com/fcllencngels)
> 
> *youtuber voice* Click the kudos button and subscribe to [my account](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fcllencngels) for more.


	7. Epilogue

“SHIRO!”

His door slammed open, and Shiro stared at Katie, who came barreling through. She jumped on him, staring up at him with fierce determination. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t even visit the second you came back. You leave for months, barely send anything at all to tell us you’re alive, and you just go straight back to work?”

Shiro smiled, ruffling her hair. If he looked now, the similarities between Pidge and Katie were all too alike. It went farther than the physical appearances, it was the parts of them that reverberated through the years. 

It made him miss Keith. 

“Sorry. Some crazy stuff happened while I was over there, and trust me. I was busy for a while.”

Katie seemed to take his words at face value, and she detached herself, glancing at the papers scattered across his desk. 

“What else would I expect from you anyway?” she muttered, before her face lit up again. “By the way, I brought someone I want you to meet. Remember that report I maybe kinda stole for you?”

Shiro stared at her suspiciously before nodding slowly. 

“Well, I ended up sort of meeting the person who wrote it. He was kinda mad at first, but after I explained, he was cool with it and wanted to meet you. We’re friends now and Matt loves him. Anyway, I think you’ll like him too. He’s working on his master’s degree apparently so he’s smart too, don’t worry.”

Shiro rolled his eyes. “Stop blabbering on Katie. Who is this mystery friend of yours?”

“Oh! I brought him to visit.” She said, looking behind her. “Where’d he go?” Walking to the door, she stuck her head out before grabbing someone and dragging them with her. 

“So, Shiro. This is Keith.”

The figure that walked through the door was all too familiar, and Shiro involuntarily dropped the pen he had been holding, the sound of it falling the only thing echoing around the room.

Keith walked up to him, confidence unerring, and offered Shiro his hand. 

“Shiro was it? Hi, I’m Keith. I was bored one day, and I decided to look into some urban legends. Katie said that you’ve done some great work at unearthing it, so I’m glad to have been any help at all.”

Katie stood behind him grinning wickedly. Raising her hands, she made an obscene gesture with her fingers that startled Shiro back to reality. 

“Uh, yeah. Your report really interested me so I decided to look into it some. Seems like he was more of a buried historical figure than an urban legend.”

Keith nodded thoughtfully, and Shiro took the time to take in the sight. 

Unlike his Keith, this one was a little shorter, but the same violet eyes flashed as he looked around. His hair was a little longer, almost reminiscent of some fashion trend that looked familiar. 

But that didn’t stop Shiro’s heart from going crazy. 

“If you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to hear about it some time.” Keith offered. “I’m not a history major, psychology and art are more of my thing, but I’d love to hear what you’ve discovered.” He said, offering Shiro a smile. 

Shiro forced himself to nod, before glancing at Katie who was looking all too self-satisfied. “I should be free this weekend, if you’d like to meet up then.”

“That sounds great.” Keith said. “Katie has my number so I’ll just have her text it to you or something.” 

Glancing at the clock Keith cursed, before flashing Shiro another heart wrenching smile. “I’ve got to be somewhere soon, sorry to be bothering you like this and leaving.”

Shiro dismissed his concern, glad to turn his attention away from the familiar face that was making his heart break. “No, it’s fine! I’m glad to have met you.”

“Me too.” 

Shiro smiled, and he wondered, hoped that maybe in this universe, in this reality, he could have happiness. 

“It’s good to have you back here Shiro. I’ll see you in a couple of days then.”

 

* * *

 

With that, Keith walked out the door, leaving Katie alone with him again. 

“He’s cute, isn’t he?”

“Shut up Katie.”

Keith’s voice echoed down the hallway, calling for her, and Katie groaned before smirking at Shiro. 

“See you soon you hunk.”

With that, she left, leaving Shiro alone with his own confusion and wanting.

It seemed as if Keith and Katie had only just left before his door was swinging open again. Looking up, Shiro stared at the figure strolling through the doorway. 

It was him, the old man on the plane.

“I told you to be careful of who you find. Love is only one of many constant forces in the universe.”

The old man chuckled to himself and Shiro looked at him curiously. 

“Who are you?”

He only shook his head and raised a finger to his lips, shushing Shiro. Looking out the window, he pointed at Katie and Keith’s retreating figures with a smile, looking all too content at the sight. 

“There are some who will find themselves in the same place, time and time again, and there are some who are determined to be a saving grace to those who cannot help themselves.”

The old man turned to him then, jabbing a finger into Shiro’s chest. 

“Life is a never-ending cycle, and there are some people who will always be destined to save the world. You are one. Do what you can now to make a difference in tomorrow’s world. So go, Takashi Shirogane. Go. Be great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's it! I'll start prepping for Nanowrimo now....theoretically. 
> 
> Come talk to me on [tumblr](http://fcllencngels.tumblr.com) please, thanks.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://fcllencngels.tumblr.com) | [Twitter](http://twitter.com/fcllencngels)


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